Talking to some Asian Germans in the kitchen this morning. So sweet. So surprised when they said they were from Germany. A bit racist of me? Probably. But also– it’s not that common that you meet Asian Germans. At least not in Eastern Germany where I was– I never met a single one in the whole month and a half I was there!
The girl was telling me about the work they do in Germany– helping Afghan children through some freedom program. Sounded really interesting. Wish I had had more time to talk to her. But we’re both leaving right now and we will probably never see each other again. I gave her a hug goodbye after only speaking to her for 6 minutes. It’s a strange, strange concept- hostel connections. :) It’s strange, but it’s also lovely when you are in the mood for it. Which I finally am again. Maybe because this is a great hostel, or maybe also because the end is in sight of hostel living.
I really want to tell the story of the plane ride to Switzerland.
So. Sit down. Next to emergency exits, OF COURSE.
People filing in, and a big dark Spanish guy sits next to me. Literally BURSTING with muscle. The kind where his elbows are jutting into your side because he can’t contain himself in the seat.
Anyway. Little intimidated by him. But finally struck up a conversation as we waited and waited and waited for takeoff.
He knew very little English, what he did know was broken, like my Spanish.
No matter! We had 3 hours together to decode each other’s languages!
By the end of the plane ride, we were both SUBSTANTIALLY better at each other’s language- and also at drawing cartoons of the words we were trying to convey. ;)
He was from the Dominican Republic- raised in Venezuela and then went to Spain when he was 20. 26 now and leaving Spain for the first time. And he said, I quote, Audios Motherfuckers. Ahahahahahahahahah. It was PERFECT. So happy that we got to share the escape of bloody Spain with another kindred spirit. Haha.
Anyway. He was so sweet and cute. We talked about EVERYTHING. Jay had no idea what we were saying as we were speaking a lot of Spanish, and I was damn proud of myself!
He bought a coffee and then drew a picture of the coffee on my notebook. Then sliced the coffee into three sections and wrote our names next to it. He was sharing his coffee with us!! I greedily gulped down the delicious drink, anxious to swap spit with random strangers on airplanes. Ha.
When we hit turbulence or the plane shook- I would lean into him as he leaned toward me to look out the window. He was my crutch and my distraction the whole bloody ride. It was beautiful. Taking the landing I was LITERALLY holding onto his arm now, as we had become that good of amigos (and also because of the fact that I am a chickenshit about flying in small planes now).
The funniest part of the whole ride– and there were lots of funny parts which I will tell later when I don’t have a train to catch— was when, in the middle of a conversation about TRAVELING, he whips out his phone and starts showing us pictures of him in speedo shorts, modeling. We laughed because the body was so obviously fake, with the gigantic inhuman muscles, but as he kept flipping through pictures, we realized we should stop laughing as this was not Jairott sticking his head through a cardboard cutout of a model beach body builder bod, this WAS JAIROTT THE MODEL BEACH BODY BUILDER!!! I held on EVEN TIGHTER to his arm after that, just to see if it was real, and yes, ladies and gentlemen, I got to hold the arm of a beautiful body builder the whole way across the Mediterranean sea.